


Murderer

by stuckonstories99



Category: Runaways (Comics)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Hurt No Comfort, I made my baby sad, I'm Sorry, Molly Feels, One Shot, Self-Blame, Self-Hatred, Short One Shot, Why Did I Write This?, many feels, this is NOT okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6099880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckonstories99/pseuds/stuckonstories99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's often speculated that Molly Hayes is more intelligent than she lets on, and that her childish innocence is a mere facade. But what is that facade really hiding? Molly tells us the real truth</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murderer

**Author's Note:**

> Based on neikeyp's headcanon here: http://neikeyp.tumblr.com/post/137553997389/molly-hayes

Sometimes, I wish I didn’t have to fake it. I wish I could just tell them the truth. They probably haven’t even realized it yet. In all honestly, I feel more sorry for their lack of knowledge of the truth than my own situation.

The situation in which I, Molly Hayes, am a murder.

A twelve-year-old child is the last person anyone expects. I mean, it’s not unheard of, but usually, anyone under a certain age is the least suspected of such a heinous crime like murder.

And if murder is such an atrocious thing, than I must be a most atrocious person…

... for I have many victims…

Sometimes, I dread going to sleep at night because I know what awaits me. Not the mysteries of the darkness or childish nightmares of some terrifying creature. No, I dream of my friends.

The same friends who have been there for me no matter what. The same friends I consider my new family. The same friends who are willing to die for me.

In my nightmares, those friends all stand around me screaming words I can’t quite make out at first. Slowly, those words become clearer. The horrific beratement and curses they’re all throwing at me bring tears to my eyes; I don’t let them fall. Chase’s words are usually the most cutting. I took his girlfriend afterall…

The hatred drips off of their voices and soaks me to my core. My dream-self never says anything. What could she say? They were all right. I’m the one to blame. I’m the murderer.

Sometimes, I cry myself back to sleep when I wake up from the nightmare. I never tell anyone about it, though. The last thing I deserve is their pity and comfort. I really don’t even deserve their friendship. They don’t realize it, but I’ve soiled it. I’ve tarnished what was once gold, all because I’m a murderer.

Alex Wilder, he was my first victim. Dear Karolina could have been my first. She was the one trying to protect me from that face-sucking vampire guy. What was his name? I can’t remember. 

Alex may have been a traitor, but he didn’t deserve to die. Not even our parents deserved to die. Oh yeah, the Pride were my second set of victims. The Yorkes, the Deans, the Wilders, the Steins, the Minorus, and my own two parents. 

Sometimes I dream about them promising to take me to Disneyland, the last vacation we would have gone on, had we not ran. I often question if they’re love for me was really a lie. But who am I to question such a thing? A murderer like me doesn’t even deserve to have such a nice lie.

They all died by my hands. I broke the soul container. I thought it was right to set the girl they had killed free. I had no idea I would become just as blood-guilty as they were. One could argue, ‘Well, Alex took the blame, that’s why the Gibborium started their killing spree’. But I was the one who lit that fire. My so-called heroic act doomed them all. 

My thrid victim was the one I regretted murdering the most. Her name was Gertrude Yokes. She was smart, funny, and she always knew what to say. She made my best friend Chase smile like I had never seen before and even though I got sick of all their lovy-gushy stuff, I secretly hoped I could have that too one day. Now, I realize that I don’t deserve to even hope for such things.

She died tryign to save me. You could argue that she was trying to save Chase, but she was only there because I let myself get kidnapped in the first place. That’s when I realized how far I had really gone. 

No more, I decided then and there. Never again.

Klara is a really nice girl. I love her and I want to protect her. I almost lost her once, I won’t loose her again; Not if I can help it. I really don’t deserve her friendship, but as long as I have it, as long as I protect her, as long as I save her from myself, then maybe I can finally put on a real smile for once. 

I guess faking childish innocene isn’t such a bad thing. I’m really good at it. Nobody suspects a thing. Maybe Klara, sweet, sweet Klara can call my bluff sometimes, but I’ll keep faking anyway. 

Maybe one day they’ll realize how dangerous I really am. They’ll brand me as the murder I always knew I was. They’ll say I’m just like my parents, and they’ll be absolutely right. 

I’m don’t know if I’ll be ready when that day finally comes, but maybe, just maybe if I’m the best hero I can be, I can continue on my long road of redemption.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. I kind of regret writing this and hurting my precious child, but this is also my first time writing something like this so I'd appreciate some feedback and constructive criticism!


End file.
